DetonatorTM:B2
by UK Renegade
Summary: Another Blackfield inmate has entered the Twisted Metal contest to finish what he has started


Detonator  
  
Vehicle make: A Second World War Half-track, with salvaged car parts and metal sheets added to the sides and back, on the front are several mismatched boxes and barrels with Warning- Explosive on them.  
  
Stats: Handling: 3/10 Speed: 4/10 Armour: 9/10 Special: 10/10  
  
Special Move name: Suicidal Charge.  
  
Move Description: The half-track speeds up and collides with the opponent with its front, detonating several pounds of explosives and causing great damage to the opponent, but sacrificing 10% of the half-track's health.  
  
Blackfield Asylum: Patient Records.  
  
Name: Ian Grant Condition: Unstable. Age: 28  
  
Disorder: Depression Mood swings that lead to violent acts Resentful to everyone  
  
Treatment Anti-depressants :::To be placed in food::: Counselling (through speaker) Electro-shock therapy  
  
Prologue:  
  
A large stone sits in the middle of a desert wasteland, the words 'Blackfield Asylum' have been chiselled into them many years ago. A lone Vulture sits on the stone, screeches and then flies off towards the asylum as the camera follows.  
  
Ian: (his voice has a bitter ring to it) You know, they actually wonder why I hate them, the stupid assholes that work here.  
  
The Vulture flies towards one of the window ledges and lands on it, the camera continues through the wall and moves along a corridor, it is dark and filthy looking.  
  
Ian: Maybe it's because I get FUCKING ELECTROCUTED in this place.  
  
The camera passes an obese guard with his hands behind his back, trying to look important and reaches a door with the words 'ELECTRO-SHOCK THERAPY' on it. It passes through the thick steel door to find Ian just finishing his treatment in a bizarre looking chair that has straps and a neck brace attached to it. Ian is a quite muscular looking man with pasty skin; the only clothes he has are a torn and dirty blue shirt that has lost its colour and a pair of black jeans. There are a couple of tattoos on his arms and smoke seems to be coming from his scalp where a thin layer of ginger hair grows. The doctor attending walks off towards the door to get the guard.  
  
Ian: God that fuckin' hurts, why do they do it, I already explained my life story to them, do they think this will bring out some sort of terrible childhood story where Daddy beat me up? HA, I didn't even know my father, except the fact he was an asshole. Just like everyone else.  
  
There is a sound of panicked shouting, followed by the sound of a hail of bullets from outside. After the dull thump of two bodies falling the echoed footsteps of someone can be heard.  
  
Ian: That's why I'm in here, because of the assholes of the world that make it their job to fuck about with my life, but the dumb bastard upstairs must like me a bit as I had an unexpected visitor with a proposition for me.  
  
Ian looks over to the door as it opens and Calypso walks into the room, Ian looks lost for words as Calypso helps him out of the therapy chair.  
  
Ian: The guy was Calypso, a guy that makes less public appearances than the Invisible Man, but that wasn't the really cool part; Calypso wanted me to compete in his fucked up contest that usually left Midtown a smoking crater. And the prize was any thing I desired.  
  
The two shake hands and the view quickly cuts to the Half-track tearing through a chain link fence surrounding the Asylum.  
  
Ian: The doctors said I needed to vent my anger anyway.  
  
Middle  
  
An abandoned stretch of highway, the roads all lead to wooden barricades that block the path of the Half-track, who is facing off against a Police paddy wagon which has the words 'M.P.D.' on the side, both vehicles are still in one piece.  
  
Paddy Wagon: You there, turn off your engine and step away from that hunk of junk.  
  
Ian: Make me you fucking asshole!  
  
Both vehicles start accelerating towards each other and begin building up speed, but as they are a few feet away from colliding Ian presses a button on his dashboard and next to it the words 'Armed' appear in bright red. The two vehicles collide, but the containers on the front of the Half-track, which are packed with explosives, detonate. The charred remains of the paddy wagon descend to the ground, but on the half-track the sheer force of the explosion has knocked out Ian, leaving him slumped back in his seat.  
  
Ian: That explosion reminded me so much of other times, better times, times before I was sent to Blackfield.  
  
The camera is focused on Ian, but now he has no hair on his head and the faded blue shirt is gone, he is surrounded by others who are dressed in the same way.  
  
Ian: I was part of a group that wanted to bring an end to the world so that it could be cleansed of all the assholes that had ruined it. I had spent weeks on the bomb that would trigger the apocalypse; it had become my obsession during that time.  
  
The bomb is set and the group run for the exit.  
  
Ian: We felt like gods who had decided the fate of every asshole on this planet, then he ruined everything!  
  
Ian looks over his shoulder just in time to see John Doe throw the bomb out of the window and be hurled back against the wall. John Doe struggles to his feet shaking his head, smiling at a job well done as Ian sneaks up behind him and hits John hard in the back of the head with a paperweight found on one of the desks.  
  
Ian: It was a fuckin' fed, the turncoat asshole was spying on us to work out where we would strike. The anger that boiled inside me wanted me to beat the two-faced prick to death with the paperweight! And I was going to, but the MPD turned up, arrested me and hauled my ass to court.  
  
Ian is now standing in front of the judge, his arms and legs are chained together.  
  
Ian: It didn't take to long for the judge and the jury to come to the conclusion that I was a complete fruitcake, and the assholes shipped me off to Blackfield.  
  
Ian wakes up, starts up the half-track and blasts through a barrier.  
  
Ian: I'm going to finished what I started, and not one single asshole will stand in my way.  
  
Ending  
  
A gigantic, black ice cream van explodes, flinging the flaming clown head at the camera, turning it to black, before coming back to the half-track as it enters Calypso's theatre hideout and approaches Calypso's throne of mangled cars where Calypso and a young boy sit.  
  
Ian: I had wiped the floor with all of my opponents, and now I was getting my wish, to destroy the Midtown Centre for Disease Control and fulfil this world's destiny.  
  
Calypso waves his arms, lightning strikes and the screen fades to white; it fades back to Ian's face, he looks angry and upset about something.  
  
Ian: That backstabbing, lying, asshole Calypso! I didn't want this!  
  
The camera pulls back to show Ian tied to a chair in exactly the same room as in the middle movie, the bomb is strapped to his chest and is counting down.  
  
Ian: I wanted to watch and feel the indescribable agony that all of the assholes would feel, but now I'm just going to become a big red-stained reminder of where ground zero was.  
  
The camera starts to cut between the bomb's timer and Ian's face as he watches it.  
  
Bleep::: 5 seconds  
  
Bleep::: 4 seconds  
  
Bleep::: 3 seconds  
  
Bleep::: 2 seconds  
  
Bleep::: 1 second  
  
Ian: YOU'RE AN ASSHOLE CALY.  
  
Screen cuts to black as the sound of an explosion is heard, before the credits roll and 'Paint It Black' plays. 


End file.
